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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842504">Another New York Love Story</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie_Noelle_R_Reddie/pseuds/Annie_Noelle_R_Reddie'>Annie_Noelle_R_Reddie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songfic [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Another New York Love Story, Fluff and Angst, Gotta love the New York subway, Joey Contreras, M/M, SNL Richie, Songfic, Strangers, Surgical Intern Eddie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:02:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26842504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie_Noelle_R_Reddie/pseuds/Annie_Noelle_R_Reddie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Chicago sucks because it’s too windy, it’s on Lake Michigan, and it’s like...like what’s even in Chicago? A big fucking bean? New York… New York is so full of light, and life, and there are so many different people from so many different places, and we’re all here because New York has this kind of magic, just pulling us all in, giving us a little bit of the light that the city holds. So fuck Chicago and it’s stupid bean. No New York tragedies, Eds. Only magic.” Richie breathed, and Eddie did nothing to stop the tears that pricked his eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songfic [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Another New York Love Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a songfic for "Another New York Love Story" by Joey Contreras. Here's a link to watch the performance! We really recommend listening to the song before, during, or after reading this. Thank you so much for reading!<br/>-Annie and Noelle<br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DGJ2pcgZ0Ao</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie Kaspbrak stumbled onto the subway train cart, already dreading the long ride to his apartment in the heights. He had let his best friend, Bill, convince him to go to some stupid NYU party, which had quickly turned out to be a big mistake. After three hours of sipping on a warm beer while standing in the corner of a packed shoebox apartment, Eddie found Bill, said “I’m too old for this shit.” and left. And so the 25-year-old found himself sitting in a surprisingly busy train car, bracing himself for the nearly hour-long ride he was about to take through the city that had never felt like home, back to his empty apartment. He looked down at his iPhone and winced at the time. 2 AM? Had he really been out that long? Eddie opened Spotify and immediately hit Here’s To Never Growing Up by Avril Lavigne. Anything to put him in a good mood. Anything to not feel so fucking miserable and alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There he sat for fifteen minutes, and then the train stopped at 50th street. A white man with long dreads, a skateboard, and baggy shorts entered, and stood right above Eddie, holding onto the railing that was next to him. Then, right before the doors closed, a tall man sprinted onto the train car and stood hunched over, trying to collect his breath. Eddie felt his own breath hitch in his throat. He had curly, dark brown hair and the most obnoxiously big pair of glasses he had ever seen. He was stupidly attractive, and Eddie could tell by the fading jeans and hideous Hawaiian shirt he was wearing that he was the world’s biggest dork. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stranger looked up and they locked eyes, and he felt the world stop for a second. Eddie tried his best to ignore the swooping sensation in his stomach, blaming it on the one bottle of beer he had. Suddenly the train lurched forward to begin it’s travels further uptown, and the stranger stumbled over, barely saving himself from falling flat on his face. He looked back at Eddie once he was stable on his feet, gave a quick smile, and found a seat further down on the train car. Eddie tried to ignore the blush he felt creeping up his neck. He quickly felt for his hoodie, pulling it up over his head, hoping the stranger- well, anyone, wouldn’t notice the circles under his eyes, or his tousled hair from the wild, crazy, super fun and exciting night he had before. The train stopped at Columbus circle, and half the cart got off there. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘12 more stops until I get off. Just 12 more stops.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> The skateboard dude with dreads elected to stay standing, right in front of Eddie instead of sitting in one of the many empty seats. Eddie couldn’t help but throw an annoyed glare at him. What a mistake that was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM KID? HUH? AM I TOO CLOSE? DO YOU THINK I’M DIRTY OR SOMETHING? HUH?” he started to scream at Eddie, waving his skateboard dangerously close to Eddie’s face. All he could do was sit there, trying to come up with some answer. And suddenly there the stranger was again, charging towards them, ready to save the day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey man, why don’t you lay off? He didn’t even say shit to you. Come on, leave him alone,” The stranger said, immediately putting himself between Eddie and the crazy man. The doors opened, announcing they were at Lincoln Center. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is my stop anyways. Screw both of you,” He hissed, then stormed off the train. Even more people got off after him, leaving just Eddie, the attractive stranger, and a few more people. The stranger sat directly across from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, by the way,” the stranger quipped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Thank you,” Eddie muttered, not meeting his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Richie. Richie Tozier,” the stranger, who now had a name, leaned across to shake Eddie’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eddie Kasprak,” Eddie responded shortly, giving Richie a brief handshake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So… what are you doing on the lovely New York subway tonight?” Richie asked, resting his cheek on his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got dragged to some party at NYU. It sucked. I dipped early.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Stupid small talk.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> He didn’t say anything after this, hoping this was the end of their conversation. Richie gave him a pointed look.“What about you?” he grumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I work on SNL. I left the afterparty early,” Richie answered, probably thinking Eddie would be impressed by his superstar job.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if the afterparties are anything like the show, I get why you left early,” Eddie said, hoping </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> would shut Richie up so he could just ride in silence, ignoring the aching in his chest. The same ache he had felt four years ago when he was falling head over heels for the cute boy in his public speaking class. But to Eddie’s shock, Richie just burst out laughing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit, that’s a good one! I’m writing that down. I’m gonna tell Lorne you said that. That’s some good shit Eds!” Richie failed to try to hold back his laughter, getting annoyed looks from the other passengers on the train. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you just call me?” Eddie asked. Richie only gave him a confused look. “You called me Eds. Don’t call me that. I hate nicknames.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t your name literally Eddie? Short for Edward or something stupid?” Richie asked, slightly dumbfounded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, that’s different,” Eddie answered shortly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s it short for? Edgar? Edwin? Spaghetti? Damn, that’s a good one. Eddie Spaghetti!” Eddie fought hard to keep the annoyed look on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, dickwad. Just-just call me Eddie. Don’t call me Eds, or Spaghetti, or whatever stupid, lame, not funny name you come up with. God, no wonder SNL hired you. That’s exactly what they’re looking for, huh?” it seemed as if every insult Eddie hurled only egged Richie on, the grin on his face getting even wider.  Eddie had no idea if he loved or hated it. The train stopped and the doors opened at 86th street. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! 8 more stops until I get off Eds!” Richie announced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you getting off on 157th?” Eddie asked him, dreading the answer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh god please no please no please no.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yup!” Richie replied enthusiastically. “Where are you getting off?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“157th,” Eddie muttered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘8 more stops. Just 8 more stops. 8 more stops until you never have to talk to this completely not funny, not even that attractive, non-charismatic at all dude who is definitely not making you blush, who is DEFINITELY NOT giving you butterflies and making you feel weak at the knees. Just eight more stops until this stupid, corny, New York love story is over.’ </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s a good thing you’re only stuck with me for like fifteen more minutes,” Richie said. “And I promise, I’m not always this annoying. I’m just wound up after the show. I can be normal. Sometimes,” Eddie couldn’t stop a fond smile from growing on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh thank god,” he jokingly breathed out, and they both laughed together. It was nice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I only said sometimes. It’s why I can never get a boyfriend,” Richie said this so casually, Eddie was almost shocked. He had only just come out to everyone last year, and still wasn’t entirely comfortable just talking about his sexuality so nonchalantly like Richie just had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well… I was too mean, judgy, and bitchy to keep my ex-boyfriend. So,” Eddie offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah. I bet he just couldn’t keep up with you,” Richie said. “So, I work at SNL. It’s only my second season. I was a featured player last season, but now I’m a repertory player, so now I’m like-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know how SNL works, you don’t need to explain it to me,” Eddie snapped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ALRIGHT well, where do you work? What do you do?” Richie continued, completely oblivious to Eddie not wanting to talk to him. Or maybe he just didn’t care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I used to be a temp-” Eddie begins to explain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“John Mulaney was a temp!” Richie cut in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? I- okay. I was a temp. But I hated it. Now I’m in medical school. I want to be a surgeon. I’m almost done with my third year in the program at Columbia, and then next year I’m gonna start applying for internships. Like Grey's Anatomy,” Eddie stared at his hands as he spoke. He looked up to see Richie pretending to be asleep. “You suck,” Richie’s eyes shot open, and he shot Eddie a lazy grin. Eddie could feel his stomach swoop again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry I just- wow. That just put me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eds! I’ll have to tell John I met another ex-temp though. He’ll be so excited!” Richie joked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, no way you’re on speaking terms with John Mulaney. He’s actually funny,” Eddie pointed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, that only hurt a little bit,” Richie pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. Eddie found it hard to look away. “And I do know John, actually. He’s the one who got me an audition on SNL. I was on the crew for his tour, he fell for my charming and witty personality, and talked to Lorne about me. He even tried to leave his wife and start a relationship with me, but I told him no. I wasn’t worth it. I would only drag him down,” Eddie rolled his eyes in disbelief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell kind of drugs are you on?” he asked incredulously. Richie laughed as he quickly crossed over to sit next to Eddie, leaving one seat between them. There was that familiar swooping feeling in Eddie’s stomach. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All of them,” Richie grinned. Eddie couldn’t help but laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m calling the cops. Just kidding. ACAB,” Eddie said. Richie’s smile immediately dropped, and Eddie was worried for a second. Had he struck a nerve?  “Um…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I go to prison, you need to promise me that you’ll visit every other Tuesday. Unless there’s a full moon. Do you understand me?” Eddie groaned once he realized that Richie was still just being a jackass. “Eddie, please! Promise me!” Richie took Eddie’s hands, holding them. “Promise you’ll visit me every other Tuesday. I need you to help me break out!” Richie pleaded. Eddie could only look at their joined hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… what are you doing?” he asked slowly. Richie immediately dropped their hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I’m sorry. It was just a joke. I’m a comedian. It’s what I do. Sorry. Sorry,” Now Eddie could see Richie was starting to blush and immediately felt bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No, it’s okay! I just- I don’t really… I uh, I haven’t- I’m not… used to... I just-yeah. I don’t know,” Eddie stuttered, his face on fire. “I generally avoid these interactions.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pathetic attempts at flirting?” Richie offered lamely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. That’s it,” Eddie said. They sat in awkward silence for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why? If you don’t mind me asking?” Richie asked. Suddenly he had dropped all of his jokes, the comedian's side to Richie Tozier was gone. Now he just had a soft look on his face, ready to listen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was with a guy for four years. I loved him. A lot. We graduated from college together, moved here together, came out to our families together. It was a perfect love story. And then like, a month after we came out together, he told me he had been cheating for a year, and he was leaving me for some aspiring Broadway actor, and they were moving to Chicago. Because nothing says aspiring Broadway actor like moving to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chicago</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He dumped me, and the next day he was gone. And it just- it fucked me up. New York was my dream come true when we were here together. I loved living here so much. And now I don’t… I feel like he took the city away from me? Like I don’t have a home anymore. And I haven’t really gotten back on the dating scene yet. Cause, you know. I’m still working through it. And I’m terrified. Because I was just left here, living in my own little New York tragedy,” Eddie explained. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Eight more stops. Just eight more stops and you’re done’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>the doors opened, and it was announced they were at 125th street. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh. Three more stops. Oh.’ </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, that dude sounds like a pussy. Fuck Chicago,” Richie said. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. But really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck Chicago! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You know why Chicago sucks?” Richie asked. Eddie just cocked his head at him. “Chicago sucks because it’s too windy, it’s on Lake Michigan, and it’s like...like what’s even in Chicago? A big fucking bean? New York… New York is so full of light, and life, and there are so many different people from so many different places, and we’re all here because New York has this kind of magic, just pulling us all in, giving us a little bit of the light that the city holds. So fuck Chicago and it’s stupid bean. No New York tragedies, Eds. Only magic.” Richie breathed, and Eddie did nothing to stop the tears that pricked his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Rich,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. He would do anything to keep some of that magic and light that was so clearly living in Richie. Eddie had a feeling he could never look at New York the same way again. A tear started to trickle down his face. Richie lifted his hand and gently brushed it away. Eddie could almost feel a bit of the magic living in him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem, Eds. And it’s okay that you’re still trying to get over it. It takes... longer for some people than others. Especially for a relationship that… that lasted that long,” Richie struggled to find the right words. “But… you don’t need to shove all your feelings down. You don’t need to be numb. It’s okay to hurt, Eddie. Because holding onto pain and fear, it just… I don’t know. If you hold onto it long enough and let it control your life, it’ll drive you insane. You’re braver than you think,” Richie finished. They held each other’s gaze for a long while. Eddie could see tears shining in Richie’s eyes as well. “Oh look! It’s our stop!” the doors opened, and it was announced they were at 157th street. Eddie followed Richie off the train and up the stairs. Finally, they were above ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie took his iPhone out of his pocket and let out a chuckle when he realized that Avril Lavigne had been playing on repeat for the whole train ride. He had been planning on saying a quick “Thanks, bye,” to Richie, and hurrying to his apartment But as they stood above ground in Washington heights at 3 AM, Eddie found a part of him that wanted to continue talking to Richie. A part of him just wanted to stay there forever, feeling the soft September breeze in the dead of night. With Richie. Forever. But Richie would never understand, so Eddie braced himself for the goodbye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My apartment is right down there,” Richie said, pointing down a street. “Which way is yours?” he asked. Eddie pointed in the opposite direction. “Oh. Well. Lead the way, good sir! I shall walk you home!” Eddie gave Richie a bewildered look, then started walking towards his apartment. The five-minute walk was filled with a comfortable silence. A couple of minutes in, Eddie laced their fingers together. They both had dopey smiles on their faces. Eddie felt like he was a teenager all over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, this is me,” Eddie announced awkwardly, coming up to an apartment building. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is where I leave you, Sir Spaghedward,” Richie bowed, but Eddie didn’t miss the nervous look in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Richie. Really. For uh… for everything. Tonight,” Eddie told Richie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem, Eds. The pleasure was mine. Really,” Richie grinned. They stood there, just looking at each other, neither one wanting to leave. With a sigh, Eddie took out his wallet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My number is on this card. If you ever want to… ride the subway with me for an hour again… just let me know. Goodnight, Rich,” Eddie gave the card to Richie and began to turn away, but Richie grabbed his hand again, spinning him back around. Before Eddie could say anything, Richie gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and released him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome home, Eds. I’ll see you soon.” Richie gave him a wink, turned on his heel, and left. Eddie watched him disappear down the street, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin when he saw Richie trip over himself after his sad attempt at a heel-click. Eddie entered his apartment, and for the first time in nine months, he felt like maybe he could find a home in the city someday. He quickly got ready for bed, still overwhelmed from the night he just had. Once Eddie was curled up, he opened his phone to see a text from an unknown number. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>555-1243:</b>
  <span> Well, I guess we’re just another New York love story, aren’t we? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eddie looked at the text, re-read it, re-read it again, memorized it, and read it again. Another New York love story. He responded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Eddie:</b>
  <span> I like the sound of that. </span>
</p>
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